


Counting Down

by Itme_nofaithleft



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, References to Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:55:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21797965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itme_nofaithleft/pseuds/Itme_nofaithleft
Summary: Dan Howell is relying on one thing in his life to go right. The one constant thats kept him going for years, the clock on his wrist that counts down to the date he'll meet his soulmate.Phil Lester, a millionaire and CEO of Lester Entertainment Studios, wants nothing to do with a soul mate.
Relationships: Chris Kendall/PJ Liguori, Dan Howell/Phil Lester, Phil Lester/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 49





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is something I've been working on for a few years now and... It's not finished but I feel like I need to start posting it. Hope you all enjoy it.

Dan opened his eyes to once again sigh at the dark monochrome ceiling of his bedroom and listen to the soft ticking of the clock on his wrist. Seven days. Seven days, seven hours, thirty-nine minutes, and twenty-five seconds until it runs out. One week from now at 1:39 PM, he'll meet his soulmate. He's scared. What if it stops before then? What if it just stops? He had seen it happen, his friend in middle school, his only friend, her timer stopped before it reached zero.  
.~*~.  
He had noticed before her. They were in the lunchroom talking and he noticed it had stopped, she had not. It only had two hours left. Two hours, four minutes, and six seconds to be exact. You would think she would know, but she didn't she just kept talking about some new lip-gloss the corner store had. He just stared at her wrist in absolute horror for almost five minutes before she even realized he wasn't paying attention, she followed his gaze to her wrist and stared at it with him. More and more people took notice of their staring until finally she started crying. People quickly realized that her timer must have stopped. After all, what else could it be? Two people staring at her wrist in abject horror, and she’d been talking about it nonstop for the last week that she was supposed to meet her soul mate that day.  
Over the next couple of weeks, she got condolences where she should have gotten roses, hugs when she should have been kissed. He felt horrible for her, and so did everyone else. She wasn't required to do any work for the rest of the year and was put into counseling soon after. Then the first week of summer, it got too much, and he didn't have a friend anymore.  
He didn't blame her, he couldn't. He doubted he'd be able to handle it either, if his supposed soul mate died only two hours before they were supposed to meet. However, he doesn’t have two hours. He has seven days, seven hours, thirty-seven minutes, and twelve seconds.  
.~*~.  
Sighing once again he got up, got dressed, and got ready for the day. He ate quickly, some tasteless mass-produced cereal that's supposed to be good for you but hasn't any real taste, then headed out the door. It was freezing. He wrapped his thin coat tighter around his shoulders and trudged his way to the coffee shop he worked at. The warm air assaulted him as he stepped in and made him shudder with delight.  
"Hey!" The other employee working the shift waved to him, Pj, He exhaled in relief and waved back. Pj was one of the few others that actually does his job instead of just sitting on his phone for the entire shift and making Dan do everything.  
"How's it going Peej?" he asked slipping the apron over his head and smiling, "Everything good with Chris?" Chris was Pj's soulmate; they had met two weeks ago. Dan didn’t really have to ask to be honest, PJ had yet to stop smiling since they’d met, Though the mention of his lover made the smile brighten so Dan figured it didn’t matter too much.  
"Great actually," He smiles widely and started into a long rant about how amazing and adorable Chris is. He loved talking about his soulmate, but he could only say so much before it got annoying and Dan decided to drown him out, busying himself with making drinks for the few customers waiting at the front. It's a repetitive task and doesn't need much focus, so he's able to let himself space out, to focus on the subtle ticking of the clock on his arm.  
"Danny?" Pj called out his name after a few minutes and looked over at him, "You still with me mate? I asked you a question."  
He shook his head and sighed, "Sorry Peej, I was lost in thought, what did you say?" He didn't respond for a moment making a red headed girl named Charlie a Frappuccino.  
"How long is it?" PJ asked gently as if something was wrong, Dan panicked for a moment and looked down at his wrist, sighing in relief to see the numbers still ticking down, "You only have a few days left right? Are you nervous?"  
"Seven days, five hours, four minutes, and fifty-seven seconds,” he recites, nodding, "Of course I am. What if they don't like me?"  
"Who couldn't like you?" Pj teased, "You're a great guy. Attractive, funny, considerate, whoever it is will likely be more than happy for a guy like you. Besides, have you ever heard of the universe fucking up?"  
Dan had, but it wasn't something he talked about. It fucked up with his parents, and subsequently him. His father had beat his mother ruthlessly and cheated on her all the time. He would hit Dan too sometimes but... no one could separate the two of them, they were supposed to be soul mates after all. No one believed that he would hit them maliciously.  
Dan rolled his eyes as he handed another customer their coffee, not mentioning his father or any of the other examples he could give, "Okay sure. Whatever you say Peej." He smiled slightly and sat down on one of the stools while they waited for the next customer to come into the shop, "but a lot could go wrong still... it could stop for instance. What if they die before we meet? What if I die?!"  
"Dan," Pj groaned loudly, "There's such a small chance of that happening. Your soul mate will love you and you'll live long happy lives okay? No bad thoughts here don't jinx yourself."  
Dan shrugged slightly, "I know that but honestly Peej... I think this whole thing is bullshit... who gets to say who the love of my life is? Some stupid clock? Maybe the clock itself is broken. I wouldn't be surprised."  
"Why do you think like this? I swear you look for anything to be pessimistic about now. You are not broken Dan. That clock isn't broken either. In seven days your soulmate will show up and sweep you off your feet." He grinned, and nudged him gently as he slipped off his stool, "go to the back and get more caramel, will you?" He smiled as he went over to the counter to take someone's order.  
Dan just sighed and walked to the back to grab a new container of caramel. He checked his phone quickly before coming back, wasting a little bit of time. He jumped as he heard PJ call back to him, saying he needed the caramel. Dan scowled; of course, the customer would order something with caramel. He came back and gave the other man the caramel before taking someone else's order and making their drink. He looked over to see PJ hand a coffee to a rather professional looking man with a dark quiff and vibrant blue eyes who rushed out of the shop as soon as he paid.  
Dan watched PJ walk over as he handed the drink to the woman and raised an eyebrow at his stunned expression, "What now? You look like you just met Jesus."  
PJ rolled his eyes at the joke and grinned, "Next best thing, that was Phil Lester. He's this rich CEO that gives the biggest tips because he's always in a rush. He just handed me a hundred pounds for a caramel macchiato and told me to keep the change!" He grinned, "I'm taking Chris out somewhere nice tonight."  
"Must suck for his soulmate to have someone so busy,” Dan commented off handedly, slightly sympathetic.  
"He doesn't have one, his clock is still counting down," Pj shrugged, "But I mean with that much money I doubt they'd have much to complain about.”  
Dan didn't respond and continued working, going around and collecting abandoned mugs from around the shop. He took them to the sinks and washed them before sighing softly and running his hand through his hair. This soulmate thing was stressing him out. So many things could go wrong within the next seven days... or after they were up. His soul mate could be so many bad things and it wouldn't matter to anyone. He (or she but he doubted that) could be abusive, neglectful, or perfect but terminally ill. They could hate him the moment they set eyes on him, think that they deserved better. They could cheat and lie or ignore him or flat out reject him. Dan hated the very thought. He had horrible abandonment issues, and rejection from the one person that was supposed to care about him was pretty much at the top of the list for Dan’s biggest fears.  
.~*~.  
Dan sighed and finished his shift, hanging up his apron as his manager came into the shop.  
"Daniel! I'm glad I caught you!" She smiled and skipped over to him. He really couldn't stand her, or her permanent giddiness, but telling her that could lose him his job, so he wasn't going to say anything, "I got your schedule for the month," She grinned and handed him a piece of paper. He looked over it and frowned slightly.  
"I can't work that day, I'm supposed to meet my soulmate," he pointed out and showed her his wrist.  
"Sorry honey, I can't do anything about it, Louise was supposed to work that shift but she's having her baby that day (Dan cursed Lou in that moment and the child, despite that he was supposed to be the godfather to the baby)," She smiled at him sympathetically, "Maybe you're supposed to meet them here?"  
Dan glared at her and scoffed, pushing past her and walking out the door. He didn't want to work on that day. He didn't want to work the day he was supposed to fall in love. He stormed home, slamming his door when he got inside and flopped onto the couch.  
He buried his head in his hands and sighed. He sat there for a few minutes before getting up to order a pizza. He wondered if his soulmate liked pizza. He hoped so; he didn’t think he could live without it. He shook his head at such a stupid thought and grabbed a can of Coke. He sat back down and grabbed his laptop, and mindlessly browsed online until he heard his doorbell ring. He groaned and pulled himself away from his couch and laptop to get his pizza.  
He paid the man, who in his opinion put in too much of an effort to socialize with him, and flopped back onto his couch. He pulled a piece of the pizza out of the box and taking a large bite, dropping the pizza and waving his hand in front of his face with his mouth open after realizing how much of a mistake it was to shove the hot pizza into his mouth immediately. He chugged his drink quickly to cool it and gagged at the taste of suddenly soggy and sweet pizza.  
He sighed and looked down at his wrist. Six days, twenty-one hours, twelve minutes, ten seconds. He sighed shakily and looked out his window, somewhere out there his soulmate might be looking at his (or her) clock too. Strangely, the thought comforted him slightly. He smiled slightly and went back to eating.


	2. Chapter 2

Phil Lester was not looking at his clock. He never looked at his clock. It just wasn't something he did. Partly because he didn't want a soul mate, didn't think he deserved one. He wasn't soulmate material. He never had free time, worked constantly, and was always in business mode. He didn't want some poor person to be stuck with him.  
The other was because he didn't trust it as his clock didn't start ticking down until he was four years old. Many people had different theories as to why: his original soulmate had been reincarnated, hadn't been born till he was four, and some people just assumed he was broken. He fit with those. Clocks weren't supposed to stop and start as his did. They were not supposed to behave as his did.  
He had a routine. Wake up, make coffee, get ready for work, go to work, come home, sleep, and repeat. It was the same thing every day. He rarely changed his routine. He felt like he was in a rut, doing the same thing repeatedly every single day. What did he do to change this? Told his secretary to put one of his alarms per week twenty minutes later so he would have to get his coffee somewhere else then home. Force him to have more interaction with people outside of work. However, even that didn't do much as he went to the same shop every week.  
.~*~.  
Thursday. She'd set it late for Thursday. He groaned loudly as he woke up and glared at his ceiling for only a second before rushing out of bed to shower and dress. He brushed his teeth in the shower and combed his hair while pulling on his pants, rushing to get out of his flat as soon as possible. Yes, he still lived in a flat. It was small, with only an empty guest bedroom to remind him that there was no one in his life, so wasn't as lonely as most of the mansions his coworkers or rival company CEO's lived in. He had considered getting a flat mate before, but he had plenty of money to pay for everything himself and didn't want to deal with a possible slob dirtying the apartment or messing with his things. He honestly had no idea what he would do with a soulmate.  
He drove to the closest Starbucks and ordered his drink from a familiar looking barista named PJ. Caramel macchiato, the same thing he always got after he first tried it. He bounced on the balls of his feet impatiently as the barista made his drink and jumped in surprise when he yelled.  
"Danny! I need that caramel ASAP!" PJ directed toward the back room where his coworker, "Danny", must have been with the caramel for his drink, which he needed about two minutes ago. He watched as a gorgeous boy with chocolate brown curls handed him a container of caramel and then took someone else's order.  
He took a moment to snap out of his little trance brought on by the beautiful boy before paying way too much for his coffee and rushing out the door. He couldn't be late today; he had an extremely important meeting today.  
However, the thought of not speaking to the boy saddened him slightly. Phil frowned to himself as he drove to work, sipping his drink and fighting his way through traffic. He shouldn't be as upset as he was about not getting to meet the boy, yet here he was. He pushed it out of his mind as he pulled into his parking space and rushed into the building.  
He went to his meeting, made important decisions, did everything that was expected of him as CEO of Lester Entertainment Studios. Nevertheless, any chance his mind had to wonder, it went back to the gorgeous barista he had seen. He had trouble focusing all day, and his eyes continued to flick down to his clothed wrists.  
Phil Lester was not looking at his clock. He never looked at his clock. It just wasn't something he did. He didn't gasp at how small the number had gotten. He didn't bite his lip and run his hand through his hair in slight panic. He didn't wonder what he would do, or who it would be. His thoughts most definitely did not travel back to the barista he hadn't yet met. He didn't stare at the numbers in amazement as they ticked down. Six days, twenty-one hours, twelve minutes, ten seconds. Nine seconds. Eight Seconds. Seven seconds...  
He did not do these things. Phil Lester did not look at his clock. He didn't think of a pretty boy in a coffee shop. He didn't. He'd swear he hadn't. But he still knew that he had only so much time before they met. Only six days, twenty-one hours, eleven minutes, and forty-three seconds.  
He didn't want a soulmate. He didn't want a distraction from work. He didn't want somebody who wanted his attention or tried to do nice things for him. He didn't want it and didn't need it. He was happy by himself, didn't need anyone else. Didn't need a soulmate. He had everything he needed, everything he wanted. He was not enjoying the idea of someone coming in and ruining his routine, his way of life.  
He wouldn't be what his soulmate wanted. No one wanted someone who never had time for them and didn't bother to make the time for them. He wouldn't be a good lover or husband. Gods forbid they have children for as much as he enjoyed kids, he would be a horrible father. He knew what it was like to grow up with an absent father and he did not want to put another child through that.  
He sighed shakily and pulled his sleeve further down, holding the cuff against his palm and clenching his fists. His breath was shaking, heart beat accelerating, his hands went numb, and vision swam before him, reminding him of the panic attacks he'd have when he was younger, when he first become CEO at the age of twenty-three after his father stepped down. It seemed stupid to be panicking over something that was supposed to excite him, something that was supposed to improve his life.  
"Sir?" He looked up at the timid voice of his secretary, "Are you alright?" She looked him over worriedly, a mug of what looked like tea clasped between her hands. She was a great secretary; unfortunately, she was leaving his employment at the end of the week. She had recently gotten married to her soul mate, another one of his employees and they were expecting a child within the month. She was going to quit so that she could be a stay at home mom. Phil supposed he couldn’t be upset with that; she was just trying to be a good mother. Phil promised to pay for the baby’s college should he decide to go. It wouldn’t even put a dent in his bank account and it was helping someone he cared about so he was more than happy to do it.  
He gave her a small smiled and nodded as he took a deep breath, "I'm okay Susan, don't worry." He cleared his throat and sat up, "Do you need something?"  
She hesitated before perking up and giving him the tea, "Mr. Lee called about the contract you discussed last week.... He'd like to arrange a meeting for lunch next Thursday sir."  
Phil grinned, "Wonderful! Tell him I'll be happy to treat him to lunch somewhere." He pulled his laptop closer and opened up a tab to email the other man, "Actually, I'll do it myself.” He smiled at her and wrote out a formal invitation to the other man to join him for lunch, happy for anything that distracted him from the clock on his wrist. Anything that pulled his attention from the quiet ticking of the seconds as it counted down.  
However, writing an email doesn't take long when you'd been doing it your entire life, practically trained from birth to run a corporate business, and soon he was once again focusing on the suspenseful ticking... tick... tick... tick...  
He was done for the day, yet it was far from when he should be heading home. He rarely finished working early, always having to sort through paperwork for hours into the night. Paperwork never bothered him; he actually found it rather cathartic, being able to mindlessly fill out papers with spreadsheets placed in front of him. It relaxed him in an odd way, allowed him to escape to his thoughts completely. Paperwork was as natural as breathing to him.  
Phil tapped his fingers on his desk and tsked quietly before standing up. He didn't like having nothing to do while at work, made him think something was wrong, that someone wasn't doing their job properly. Or that someone was trying to sabotage them from within, which he knew was stupidly unlikely and only happened in movies but that didn't stop his paranoia. The fear that someone was going to give out company secrets was still at the back of his mind all the time, and while he would love to be free of the burden that was running the company, no man wants to lose the source of his wealth.  
He paced the length of his office for a few minutes, trying to clear his head completely and utterly failing. If he wasn't thinking about the company being brought down, his thoughts returned to pretty boys in coffee shops and the ticking of his clock. It seemed to be that the more he tried to avoid thinking about the clock, the louder the ticking became. Tick... tick... tick...  
He stared out the window for a few moments and scowled at the grey-blue world outside. It had started to rain while he paced, something he found to be rather fitting considering his mood. He hated the rain, but the overhanging clouds comforted him in an odd way. The Earth appeared to be just as upset as he was. He didn't want a soulmate. He didn't want a clock on his wrist, counting down the minutes, the seconds until they met. He wanted the universe to leave him as he was. Content in himself, if not completely happy alone. But that didn't matter, he didn't need anyone else. He was content to be alone for the rest of his life until he eventually stepped down from his place as CEO to his nephew or a trusted employee.  
He sighed and pressed his forehead to the cool glass of the window. Somewhere, on the other side of that glass, the person he was meant to spend the rest of his life with was out there (that was if his clock was actually working and not broken like more than a few people speculated, himself of course included.) He looked out onto the city as rain beat against the glass, his breath fogging over the cool glass separating him from the downpour.  
Someone, somewhere, was waiting for him. He half expected to be met with nothing. He wouldn't be happy about that, to have been proven right about his clock being broken, but at the same time, it'd be a relief that he wouldn't be putting someone else through having an absent soulmate who only ever saw them for a few hours late at night or early in the morning. The other part expected to meet someone amazing, the perfect person in every way, and have to break their heart when he told them he wasn't interested. The therapy that person would likely have to go through would be immense. You never heard of someone refusing their soulmate. It just wasn't something that happened. He'd feel terrible if his refusal caused them to do something tragically stupid, but could he really be blamed if they did?... Yes. Completely, and he would have to live with that guilt.


	3. Chapter 3

Six Days. Six days, seven hours, thirty-seven minutes, nine seconds. Dan is almost positive that he's lost it. He's snapped. Gone absolutely, irrevocably insane. He blames the clock for this. Its gentle ticking, its numbers continuously counting down. The damned thing doesn't ever stop, and he's prepared to tear it out of his wrist, knowing fully well that it would kill him. The clock wraps around the veins in his wrist after all, major arteries that modern science doesn't know how to fix yet.  
He got out of bed agitated and quickly went to fetch his antidepressants. He'd been told that once he met his soulmate ("if," he'd always correct them, because nothing was for sure) that he'd stop needing them but... he wasn't sure he believed that. There was always that voice in the back of his head telling him his soulmate would reject him once they met. Honestly, he considered that his biggest fear. Being rejected by the one person that was supposed to really want him. The person that was supposed to need him, that he was supposed to need.  
Dan took his pills and sighed, pressing his palm against his forehead gently. He felt a headache coming on but wasn't going to risk mixing pills like that. He looked at himself in the mirror and wrinkled his nose in disgust. He looked horrible: deep purple bags hung under his eyes, his skin was a sallow yellowish color, his posture was slumped, and he overall appeared to be ill. He sighed and washed his face quickly, though it didn't help much with his appearance.  
He didn't have work, so had no clue what he was going to do that day. He figured that staying inside all day in his current mood probably wasn't the best idea but couldn't find the motivation to actually leave the flat. Socializing was something his therapist had told him he should do when he felt like this: unmotivated, sad... well, depressed. He honestly didn't think his therapist understood how hard it was to do that.  
He returned to his room, pulled his laptop onto his lap and mindlessly browsed around Tumblr for hours. It was a mindless task, allowing him to focus on the rhythmic ticking of his clock once again. Hours pass, the only thing he hears is the ticking of his clock, occasional clicking of his mouse, and his own soft breathing.  
He jumped at the noise of a siren passing by his flat, disturbing the quiet of his room and scrambling his thoughts. He hadn't realized how much time had actually passed at that point, but as he looks down, he realized he'd completely wasted a day in his room. He'd done nothing all day, wasted a full day of his life. He hasn't so much as eaten anything and it's seven PM. Hours really have passed then...  
He stretched and set his laptop aside. He slipped out of bed and shuffled into the kitchen, grabbing an apple out of his fridge and eating it slowly in the dark room, having not bothered to actually turn on the lights. He tossed the core into the bin when he was finished and sighed softly. He knew he should probably eat a little more but doesn't seem to have the energy to bother making something or even grabbing another apple.  
He sighed and went back to his room. Grey seemed to be the only color in his life anymore. Boringly grey walls, bedding, weather, everything. It seemed like all the joy and color had been sucked out of his life when he became a teenager and it hadn't seemed to return. He looked around the room and sighed. Grey walls, grey floor, grey life. Would it be too much to ask for a little color? It wasn’t too much surely. He would settle for anything, even blue! Not that he disliked blue, quite the opposite, he loved blue. The only issue with blue was that it symbolized sadness, and being depressed all the time, blue probably wasn’t the best color to mix with his grey life.  
He pulled the blanket over his head, trying to block out the outside world. The outside world was nothing compared to his thoughts however and being alone with them had already caused Dan to act stupidly, rashly. He traced his fingers over his wrist, feeling the fading scars and sighing softly. He hated that he'd done it, hated that he'd be so stupid, but at the time, it made things feel better. The physical pain seemed to make his emotions not as intense, almost as if they were escaping from the wounds as his blood flowed out. With every drop of blood, the emotions, thoughts, and feelings seemed to be less of a burden on him and he had found it hard to stop after that.  
He didn't think he would have if he hadn't been caught, but nothing stays a secret forever. It wasn't any dramatic reveal to the whole school, it wasn't as if one of his peers had caught him or seen up his sleeve. No, he'd been stupid. He had left out the knife he’d been using, allowed his brother to find it. Poor Adrian didn’t even understand at the time; only knew he’d found a bloody knife in Dan’s bathroom. He had been forced to talk to a counselor by his mother and hadn't left therapy since. It helped, he couldn't deny that. He'd quit cutting, started taking antidepressants, stopped considering suicide to be an option.  
Dan sighed softly as he pushed the blanket off his head once more, unable to properly breathe. He took a deep breath and stared up at the ceiling once more. Suddenly, he felt tears stinging his eyes. He didn't know why he was crying, nothing had triggered it. He just felt so sad, so helpless and lost. He pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes as he sobbed, unable to stop himself and allowing himself to cry.  
He sobbed for hours before finally calming down, his breath hitching as he sniffled and wiped his eyes. He got out of bed and cleaned his face quickly, brushing his teeth while he was in the bathroom, and then went straight back to the warm comfort of his bed. He sighed softly and stared up at his ceiling until he passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Made a tumblr: itmenofaithleft  
> Updates Saturdays


	4. Chapter 4

Phil laid in bed and stared at the ceiling of his bedroom, unable to bother himself with the effort it took to get out of bed. He bit his lip as he raised his bare wrist above his head and looked at the ticking clock once again. Such small numbers… his breath shook as he exhaled and dropped his arm back to his side.  
It was three a.m. so he was probably the only one awake in his complex. He didn’t like that though, made him feel alone. He was alone though, in every way one could be alone in such a populated area as London. He hated being alone. He was a hypocrite in that sense, he wanted to be alone but felt miserable when he was. On the other hand, maybe it wasn’t that he wanted to be alone; it was that he felt he had to be.  
Phil groaned as he got up, unable to simply sit and wait any longer. He needed to move, needed to do something. He needed to distract himself. What better way than to lose himself in alcohol and loose, soulmate-less, people at the local club? In all honesty, he hated clubbing, hated the interactions and risks that came with it, but it was always able to distract him and give him something, or someone, to do when he needed a distraction.  
He dressed rather casual, which was still rather nice for him. He probably spent more money on clothes than anything else, having to make sure he up kept the image of his company. One picture of him looking or doing something bad could end with strikes against the business and petitions. He did everything to keep the public happy, knowing that they were what allowed him to keep his job.  
He pulled on his trainers and sighed softly as he shoved his keys and wallet into his jacket pocket, before quietly leaving the building to make sure he didn’t wake up the neighbors. He walked down to the nightclub, preferring to walk every opportunity he got. He didn’t like driving it made him extremely nervous and he tried to be as conservative as he could with how much he polluted the Earth.  
A street away from the club he could already hear the headache-inducing base of the music, or rather could feel it pounding against his skull. He hesitated for a moment, wondering if it was really worth the headache, hangover, and regret he’d have in the morning just to have a distraction for the night, something to take his mind off the ticking clock. The moment the clock crossed his mind again, its small number ticking down seemingly ever faster, he immediately started toward the club again.  
Being the CEO of Lester Entertainment Studios definitely had its benefits as Phil was allowed into the club as soon as the bouncer saw him walking toward the door, standing aside and giving Phil an easy, familiar smile.  
“What’s bringing you out tonight Phil?” The large man asked as Phil came close enough for him to be heard over the music, “Looking for someone to take home?”  
Phil blushed slightly, knowing why he was asking. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d gone home with a bouncer from the club after their shift, wouldn’t have been the first time he’d been taken home by this one specifically, and payed for their silence about it after the fact. But that wasn’t anyone’s business but his.  
“I don’t really have a plan for tonight Mark… I’m not exactly looking to do something I’d regret again. You know what happened last time,” Phil answered as he entered the club, leaving a slightly flustered bouncer in his wake. He made his way through the crowds of people, over to the bar and ordered a cocktail. He had been called all types of things because of his taste in alcohols, but he didn’t really care. He would rather enjoy what he drank then be miserable with some type of disgusting lager.  
He grabbed his drink, a lavender fruity concoction, and scanned the room, watching the various people throughout the room. None of them really stood out to him so he simply worked on downing his drink and moving onto the next, this type a red and white gradient garnished with a small edible flower. He really didn’t understand why people would eat flowers.  
He nearly dropped the drink when he saw a boy with brown curls walk over to a small group of men. He set it down and tried to get a better look, leaning back against the counter when he realized it wasn’t the pretty barista he’d spent so much time fantasizing about. He was still pretty, even if Phil didn’t think he held a candle to the other man who had caught his fancy. It was stupid really, he had had but a glimpse of the boy yet he plagued his thoughts now. Those gorgeous chocolate curls, the pale, freckled cheeks, and those beautiful, sad eyes.  
Phil couldn’t help but smile slightly at the thought of him, before quickly downing the rest of his drink and frowning. It didn’t matter how beautiful the boy was. He wasn’t going to be his. The boy probably already had a soulmate, someone better than Phil. Wouldn’t be hard, he thought, anyone was better than him.  
Phil looked back over to the boy and shook off his reservations, ordering a drink and sending it over to him. At first, the brunet looked a little surprised at the drink before smirking and heading over to Phil.  
“You know… people don’t usually trust strangers to buy them drinks,” He smiled at him, placing his hand on Phil’s chest as he sipped at the drink he’d been bought, “Lucky for you I like to live dangerously.” He ran his hand up toward his shoulders.  
“I must be lucky if a boy like you would even give me attention,” Phil remarked in return, smirking and wrapping his arm around the smaller boy’s waist. The other threw his head back as he laughed, showing off his neck where more than one hickey was showing off proudly.   
“You think so little of yourself? A man like you deserves all kinds of attention,” He purred as he spoke and popped onto the tips of his toes and pulled teasingly brushed his lips against Phil’s, making the taller man groan softly as his jeans started to tighten. After he lowered himself once again, he flashed Phil a cheeky smile, “You wanna get out of here?”  
It was Phil’s turn to laugh this time, only a soft chuckle, nothing dramatic like the other, “Depends on what’s on offer. I’m not sure I’m drunk enough for a quick hookup yet.”  
“No?” The other moved closer, snaking his hand down to the front of Phil’s jeans and pressing slightly, causing his breath to hitch and hips to buck forward ever so slightly, “You sure seem interested enough though.”  
“Fuck, maybe I am drunk enough,” He pulled the other forward roughly and pressed their lips together. Honestly, the boy tasted disgusting to Phil, like lager mixed with cigarette ash, but he couldn’t find it in him so honestly care. A pretty boy was interested in hooking up with him and he needed the distraction.  
Minutes later Phil had hailed a cab and taken the other back to his flat, the boy, whose name he had yet to ask, starting to undress him before he had even gotten into the door. Phil pushed him against the wall as soon as he was inside the flat, working on adding to the collection of hickeys on his neck. The boy moaned under him as Phil grinded their hips together.  
Hours later, Phil lied in bed with the other boy softly snoring next to him. The stench of sex and sweat hung heavy in the air. He could already feel the regret setting into his stomach, a tightening in his chest and phantom pain in his stomach. Was it worth it? The sex was average at best, nothing better than he’d had before, definitely not the best. Phil pried the boys arms off from his waist and got up, grabbing his boxers and getting out of bed. Phil headed toward the shower, hoping to wash of the sweat and filth of sex.  
He turned on the hot water, allowing it to warm up before stepping into the stream and sighing softly as his muscles relaxed. He leaned against the shower wall, his eyes closed as he tried to breathe calmly. He blinked slowly as he felt tears start to run from his eyes, quickly mixing with the water and flowing down the drain.  
“What is wrong with me?!” He asked aloud. Talking to himself had always been a bit of a habit, finding it easier to process his thoughts when they were spoken, “I haven’t done anything wrong, the dumb clock is broken!” He snapped as he held his wrist up in front of his eyes. His blood ran cold at the sight. 5 days left. 5 days, 15 hours, 10 minutes, 35 seconds. Phil held his wrist up in front of him, tightening his grip and squeezing as he stared at it. It was too small. The numbers were too small, he couldn’t do this. Didn’t want this.  
His legs shook underneath him as he slid down the wall into a fetal position, “No… no, no, no, no, no!”His breath hiccupped as he started to hyperventilate, “I can’t do this!”  
A knock at the door ripped his attention away from his wrist and shocked him out of his panicked state. The boy. That’s right. Phil cursed as he got up from his place and turned off the water.  
“Yes?” He answered, trying to keep his voice as steady as possible.  
“You okay in there babe?” The pet name made Phil feel sick. God he regretted taking this boy home with him.  
“Yeah. Give me a minute. I’ll finish up in here and call you a ride home,” he answered. He really wanted this boy gone.  
“Trying to get rid of me so soon?” The pout was evident in his voice, but Phil couldn’t find it in himself to care, “I thought maybe we could go for another round? I could join you in there, I love shower sex. Might help with that anxiety,” Phil’s stomach turned at the thought.  
“I have work in the morning,” he told him, even though it wasn’t true. Technically, he didn’t have to go in. He had been planning to work at home the next day, but he’d say anything to get the boy to leave. He heard a frustrated huff from the other side of the door. He rolled his eyes and got out of the shower, grabbing his phone and ordering a taxi for the stranger in his home. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist.  
“There’s a car on its way here for you,” He glared at the boy as he opened the door, “You’re going to leave. I don’t let brats stay after I’m done with them.” The boy turned bright red at his words, reaching up to slap him but Phil caught his arm before he was hit. The boys eyes trailed to his wrist and his mouth opened slightly.  
“Your clock is running?”He looked surprised at the numbers flicking down. His eyes flitted back over to look at Phil, “Why did you bring me home with you if your clock is running?” It was Phil’s turn to turn red now, jerking his arm away and pushing past him, gathering up his clothes and pushing them into his arms.  
“Get. Out.” He hissed at the boy, who looked at him with confusion, not making a move to dress or leave. Phil glared at him with frustration at his unwillingness to obey, “I SAID GET OUT!” He screamed, pushing the boy toward the door, ignoring the way he cowered and tears spilled from his eyes at the rough treatment.  
Moments later the boy was gone and Phil was again curled into himself on the floor, only this time in his bedroom instead of the shower. He lied his head onto his knees as sobs wracked his body.


	5. Chapter 5

Work. God he hated work. Mind you, it wasn’t work itself that bothered him. No, making the coffee was easy enough. It was the people he had to deal with. Namely the woman screaming at him because her iced coffee was too cold. It’s an iced coffee, what did she expect it to be? Luke warm? Didn’t matter, he wasn’t going to deal with this anymore.  
“You know what lady? Take your issues elsewhere. You ordered an Iced coffee it is going to be cold. It’s in the name,” He spat, loving the shocked look on his face. ‘Here it comes,’ he thought, ‘3…2…’  
“I want to speak to a manager,” She hissed back and Dan grinned at her.  
“Of course you do.” He scoffed and went back to find Rosaline, the current acting manager at the shop. He went toward the breakroom, knowing where his coworker would be. On her phone like she always was. The only reason she had the job was because she was the owner’s niece, so it didn’t matter, “Rose? Some lady wants to speak to a manager.”  
“God Howell can’t you keep the shop stable for ten minutes? I have to do everything around here!” She huffed, dropping her feet from where they were on the table and storming past him toward the front. Dan didn’t care. He wasn’t dealing with any of this any longer. As soon as his manager was back that was it. He would quit and be free from this hellhole.  
Dan untied the back of his apron and slipped it off his head, hanging up onto the hook where it belonged. He stretched before gathering up his things and falling into one of the seats, propping his long legs up onto the table and texting PJ, telling him that he’d decided to quit and apologizing for leaving him alone to work the shop. Surprisingly. PJ responded that it didn’t matter, as he’d already put in his notice and secured another job. Lucky bastard. Everything in his life went right didn’t it? Job security, soulmate, rich parents, everything. If he weren’t such a good person, Dan would hate him.  
Dan ran his hand through his hair. He needed to find a new job. He couldn’t stay unemployed for more than a week; he had bills to pay. He groaned softly. He didn’t really have experience in much of anything that would be useful, only customer service and making coffee. He really didn’t want to work too directly with customer service again though. Maybe he should ask PJ, he seemed to know what to do in nearly every situation, he could probably help.  
Dan was suddenly knocked out of his thoughts by a harsh slap across his face. His hand went to his cheek as he looked up at the culprit. Rosaline stood in front of him, hands on her hips and glaring at him, “What the hell is wrong with you? Disrespecting a customer like that! You’re lucky I don’t have the authority to fire you right now.”  
“What the fuck is wrong with you Rose? You don’t just hit someone because you’re upset with them!” He glared at her, “I didn’t even do anything! The bitch complained her ICED COFFEE was too cold and I told her to stop making a scene!”  
“Don’t even Howell; you’ve been an issue since you were hired! You’re lazy, inconsiderate, and rude,” She huffed. Even that sounded entitled to Dan. Lord, he loathed this chick.  
Dan gawked at her, “I’m not the one that sits on my ass all day because my Aunt owns the shop! I did my job but you know what? I quit! So you can deal with everything for the rest of the day BY YOURSELF! All the shitty customers, making the coffee, EVERYTHING.” He growled angrily, “I’m not doing shit for you anymore.”  
Rosaline’s eyes widened dramatically at the statement, “EXCUSE ME?! Yes, you will! I can’t run this shop on my own!”  
“Sweetheart you can’t run this shop at all, “he laughed at her, “Have fun watching this place get shut down cause if the boss doesn’t fire you that’s exactly what’ll happen. Rush starts in 20 minutes, have fun.” Dan grabbed his things and left, slamming the door in her face as she stared at him in rage. He made himself a drink before leaving, using the most expensive ingredients to make his coffee exactly how he wanted it before starting toward home.  
Not living far, it was only a few minutes before his short walk led him to his apartment door and he walked inside. That was it. Dan was now unemployed, though he would still expect a check for the last week he’d worked, but that money would run out quickly. He needed a plan. He needed a job. He needed help. He could list all the things he needed for hours but for now, he needed to focus. Dan took a deep breath and grabbed his laptops, looking for local job listings. Most of what he found he either wasn’t qualified for or wasn’t willing to apply for. He wasn’t desperate yet. He had time. He scrolled through the listings, the benefits of living in a city was that it seemed that every place always needed extra workers.  
Dan clicked on a link after a few minutes, it was an office job. He would have to work with people but it would likely be a consistent group. The position wasn’t really glamourous, more a glorified internship. A secretary position for one of the higher ups. He had never really thought he’d work in an office but it seemed like a better job than anything he’d dealt with in the past. Fair pay, decent hours, likely not a heavy workload. Dan pulled up the file he had for his resume, updated it and filled in the application before sending it in. He knew he wasn’t likely to get the job, but he would prefer it to anything he’d seen in the listings.


End file.
